Nerves
by RhondaStar
Summary: Based on the film PD2. My take on what happened after Joe & Clarisse married.


_I was a huge fan of the whole Clarisse & Joseph thing after the 1st film so after watching PD2 I really needed to get this out of my head & onto paper – so to speak. I hope somebody out there appreciates it!! ï_   
Nerves 

It was late when we finally managed to escape from the celebrations, and yet we still left with the majority of the party in full swing. Mia at the centre of it, I honestly don't think I've ever seen anyone look so relieved. I, on the other hand, was beginning to sense Joseph's discomfort at being the hub of so much attention so I suggested we take a walk as a means of departure.

As we made our way around the garden the night air was still warm but the breeze was refreshing, he held my hand as we walked and for the first time in years I felt not one ounce of guilt at enjoying the sensation. He was my husband; he could hold my hand whenever he felt the need.

The nagging thought lay in my mind though, after so many years it was our wedding night and we were supposed to do what couples _did_ on their wedding night. Only it's been so very long since I even shared my bed let alone my body. I knew there was no pressure, that wasn't the issue, I wanted to make love to him, wanted to share all those wonderful things with him – it's more the worry that I might disappoint.  
  
He squeezed my hand, lifted it up and placed a kiss on my palm. "You seem deep in thought."

"Quite a day."

"Hmm, and the first time we've had the chance to be alone during it – really alone."

"Yes..."

"It's getting cool, do you want to go back in?"

"Not to the party, enough for one day."

"Tea?"

Oh he knows me well. "Perfect."

We made our way through the castle down to the private kitchen, it was always warm and comfortable here no matter the time of day or the state of the weather outdoors, it was a place I came to for peace and quiet and stillness. Here we sat together at the table, holding hands, well he held my hand.

Gently he tugged at the long gloves. "May I?"

I nodded; who knew the act of removing gloves could become so intimate. He peeled the material back with such care and tenderness, and then kissed my fingertips. I noted his eyes were closed when he did this.

"I'd lost hope..." he whispered.

"Don't, not here, we..." I tried to smile to ease the tension. "We'll talk later." I squeezed his hand back for reassurance and sipped my tea.

"Perhaps we should be drinking something a little stronger."

"Perhaps."

"You're nervous..." It wasn't a question, an open ended statement.

I dropped my head. Another thing to avoid discussing when anybody could walk in at any moment. He seemed to understand and got up from the table, opened a cupboard and took out a bottle of Brandy.

"How did you know?"

He laughed. "Chef's secret hideaway."

"Maybe I should be having a little chat with Chef."

He took two glasses down and placed them on the table. "Don't implicate me."

"Of course not. Is this Dutch courage?"

"Perhaps."

He downed the drink quickly enough to prove beyond doubt it was. I sipped mine more leisurely, strong alcohol usually went straight to my head.

"It's getting late." He twisted the watch on his wrist.

"It is, should we... I mean do you want... Oh, I'm failing miserably at this."

"I've never witnessed you fail at anything." He suddenly, and deliberately, placed a chaste kiss on my mouth, knocking me off guard for a second.

"How about I go change in my room, and you go change in yours, and then..."

I tipped my head to the side. "And then?"

"And then, whatever you want my dear." A soft hand on my cheek.

"Then I'll see you in my suite in a little while."

"Alright, should I bring the bottle?" He held up the Brandy.

"Only if you think we'll need it."

Taking my dress off, on my own for once I refused the maid's help, it suddenly struck me that this particular gown had been my wedding dress. I hadn't picked it with that intention; it wasn't flamboyant or overly extravagant, not jewelled, not cream or white. Yet I knew I wouldn't wear it again, it would go away safe and secure, to be kept as unique.

I took off my jewels, brushed my hair, stared at my closet like a woman possessed and realised no nightwear was suitable, nothing, afterall what was the point? I mean what is one supposed to wear? What would he expect or like? I settled for a long flowing robe, white, simple. Couldn't argue with that.

It seemed an age past, I dimmed the lights in the apartment, requested a bottle of champagne and wandered around aimlessly. Music still played in the ballroom, muted somewhat by the distance between my suite and the party. When the champagne arrived I felt oddly embarrassed, they all knew, everyone knew we would be together and they'd be wondering and gossiping as staff do. It unnerved me, and I ended up pouring myself a glass just to calm my nerves.

The bedroom door seemed to loom like some gigantic hurdle I had to cross, good god it was probably close to twenty years since I'd had sex. Admitting that to myself was painful enough never mind having to explain it to Joe – though he must have known, he must, he knew I would never, _had _never taken a lover. There had only been he in my affections for so long now, and though are friendship was strong there were some boundaries that had never been approached let alone crossed. Making love to Rupert seemed such a strange thing now, such an act of intimacy to share with somebody you really weren't all that attracted to. To produce heirs, that was it, to fulfil my duty, to be a Mother – I wouldn't change that for a second. But being thought of as attractive myself, as being desired by somebody, that was an emotion I hadn't considered for a very long time.

Determined I crossed the room and flung the doors open, that large empty bed that I alone had inhabited for so many years stared back at me. "Not alone anymore." I said out loud, more to encourage my own self-esteem than anything else. I pulled the top sheets back, put the lamps on low and plumped the pillows. It was whilst I was fussing over how it looked that he knocked at the door.

I folded my fingers, sat down in my usual chair. "Come in."

He too was wearing a robe, loose pyjama bottoms too from what I could tell. I wondered what they would think as he passed down the corridor. He closed the door behind him before he spoke.

"Hello." Simply and calmly.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Hello."

"I didn't bring the Brandy."

"I ordered Champagne."

"A better choice."

He was nervous; I don't think I'd ever seen him that way, shuffling from foot to foot. As always I was the one in control, he was leaving it to me to dictate the terms.

I stood up and moved toward him, placing my hands on his arms and kissing his mouth. He was shaking as he reached up to grip my waist, shaking, but he held me tight against him, no more the temperate kiss, this was whole and solid and together. We were alone.

Breathless seems such a trivial sentimental thing to say but I was, champagne and talking into the night was forgotten. This was purely for cementing our relationship, for finding that place we two only could share. No sooner had that first kiss ended that I was pressed up against his body starting another, his hands rested on my waist, at the base of my spine, I could feel his heart thumping hard beneath my chest and I suspected mine was repeating the rhythm. He whispered my name and I think I must have moaned into his mouth, everything seemed to rest in this one moment, in what was happening inside my body.

His hands slid up my arms to my shoulders and slipped my gown back and he stopped kissing my mouth to look to me for reassurance, then he dipped his head and placed gentle kisses on my left shoulder, along my collarbone to my other shoulder then back to the hollow of my neck. At some point my hands must have moved inside his robe and I may have scratched his chest because he flinched slightly then laughed at my shocked expression.

"I'm sorry." My voice sounded strange, hoarse and clouded.  
"That's okay." He kissed my forehead and I quickly took hold of his hands and moved towards the bedroom.

He held back. "I don't want to rush you."

"You never have." I carried on and led him into the room, closing the doors behind us. I turned back to him, returned his steady gaze, he was the first to move, taking off his robe and laying it at the bottom of the bed. Certainly time hadn't taken too much of a toll on his physique, I doubt whether some men of twenty years younger could look better.

He quickly moved towards me, taking hold of my body and pulling me into a hug. "Still nervous?"

I nodded. "Terrified." He lifted my chin with his finger concerned. "It's just been, such a long time." I explained.

"We don't have to do anything, just being here with you. Holding you is more than enough, I never thought I'd get the chance..."

"Don't say that,"

"It was the truth yesterday."

"A long time ago."

"So it seems."

Such warmth in his eyes, I remembered the flash of anger and desperation from the week before when I'd turned down his proposal. Then I'd broken his heart, today was a step towards mending it – or rather a leap. I pulled back slightly from the hug, dropped my hand to my waist and loosened the belt on my robe, letting it fall open, part of me not daring to look him in the eye yet the other part of me desperate to watch his reaction.

A warm smile.

A large hand sliding around my bare waist, another joining it, trailing his thumbs across my stomach as he moved up towards my breasts, then resting just below the lace of my bra. I watched the joy radiate from his face.

A tingling sensation started at my knees and gradually moved its way up into my stomach and for the first time I realised just how much I wanted him.

I held his face in my hands. "I love you." I was crying, I'd started to cry at a time like that.

He wiped my tears with one hand. "I love you too, more than I could ever say."

"I know that." I smiled.

We moved toward the bed, he held the sheets back for me, gone were the self-conscience worries, I dropped my robe to the floor and got in waiting as he removed the pyjama bottoms then he was next to me. I leaned back, pulled the sheets up my body and his hand rested on top of the sheets on my stomach.  
"You're alright?"

"Yes."

"Good."

I placed my hand on his face and brought his mouth down to mine, it was so gentle, so smooth.

With my eyes closed and the sound of my own voice resounding through my head I was floating, falling through time into bliss. So this is what it's like then... after all these years.  
  
"Clarisse..."

I smiled, gloriously, unable to hide my pleasure. I opened my eyes to look at him, his glowing face above me, fingers brushing my hair back from my face.  
"How do you feel?"  
"Completely wonderful." I stretched my arms out above my head then wrapped them over his shoulders. "Completely wonderfully blissfully happy."  
  
He laughed. "Good."  
  
I brought his face down to mine and kissed him hard. "I do love you Joseph, you know that right. I want you to know how much, you've taken second place for far too long."

"For some strange reason none of that seems to matter anymore." He teased, slowly shifting his weight to one side and leaning on his elbow to watch me.  
  
"I know tomorrow will be frantic, all the questions and press we'll have to face. And with Mia's coronation coming up and the preparations and ..."  
  
"Clarisse, sweetheart, don't worry so much. I'll still be here at the end of the day."  
  
"I know, I know." I held his hand in mine and kissed his fingers. "What I was trying to say was, I think at some point we should take our honeymoon, don't you think."


End file.
